


Resonance

by Jaxrond



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015), Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autobots - Freeform, Decepticon Justice Division - Freeform, Decepticons - Freeform, Drabble Collection, F/M, Helex and his tongue, Implied Sexual Content, May contain spoilers, Megatron being fabulous, Multi, Multiverse, Original Characters - Freeform, Other, Sensuality, Sexual Content, Shattered Glass DJD, Starscream and his need to be dominant in EVERYTHING, Tags May Change, Tarn is the reason voice kinks exist, Unnamed OCs - Freeform, requests open
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-28 22:59:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12617464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaxrond/pseuds/Jaxrond
Summary: Every spark has its own resonance, but, sometimes two sparks align, and one finds their Resonant. The common term is 'Sparkmate', though, not everyone believes in such foolish things. Especially when there's a war to be fought.(Drabble Collection: Requests are open)





	1. Prologue: Sparkmate

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! This is a drabble/one-shot collection for the Transformers multiverse. They vary in content and rating, which is why I used 'Mature' as a blanket rating. All are romance-focused. Be warned, these drabbles could span from mild romance to blatant sexual content. I will try to include a warning for each chapter at the beginning, in the notes. 
> 
> Character requests are open! I reserve the right to deny any request I do not feel comfortable writing. If I am not familiar enough with a certain character to portray them accurately, I will not do a piece for them! All pairings are canon/unnamed oc.

Sparks resonate with a kind of music of their own. It is a fact known by all Cybertronians. No matter the type, no matter the build, no matter the _faction_ , sparks resonate. And, sometimes, sparks resonate with each other. The Functonists proclaimed this resonance as Primus’ will, that it was a sign of divine selection of mates. They proclaimed that every spark in existence must have a resonance partner, and that it was a Cybertronian’s duty to find theirs. Scientists gave another reasoning, explaining that mutual resonation simply made one more attuned to another being. After all, they said, there was no need to follow mutual resonation with any sort of physicality or romance. In fact, those involved need not even become friendly. These speculations were compounded by the introduction of the process of ‘cold construction’, and a new wave of theories emerged.

Then, the war swept in like a tidal wave, and conjecture-drawing was forgotten. Resonation was something that occurred, and was, for the most part, ignored. There was no room for pursuit of romance, or even a strong relationship, not when one member of the resonance or the other may fall at any time. Some couples tried to persevere, finding their ‘sparkmate’, as was the common term, and doing their best to stay together. As time was spent with one’s ‘sparkmate’ the resonance increased. And, then, for some couples, stopped suddenly at the loss of one of the partners.

Even in the face of the horrors of the battlefield, the Allspark worked to bring individuals together. Sparks called to one another. Lives came together and fell apart. The fighting continued.

Until all are one.

 


	2. Succulence- Helex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated T for innuendo and mentions of interfacing.
> 
> I am shameless DJD trash and it's practically canon that Helex has an oral fixation, soooo....  
> My take on SG!Helex and his embermate. Hope you enjoy! Tarn is next.

In the war against the Autobots and their Mad Prime, there was very little time for activities beyond those dedicated to bringing their tyranny to an end. Missions had to be run, the casualty list updated, supplies brought in an organized, battle plans laid, injuries attended to, upgrades made, and the morale of the troops kept up. There was far too much to do, I said. And Helex smiled, an impish smile full of promises, his optics glittering as though in the face of a challenge. His smaller pair of arms are crossed over his chassis, the iron glass of the stasis pod hatch glinting. One of his larger hands settles on his hip, the other motioning down the hall.

“Come on, look around,” he waves about, pointing out the emptiness around both of us, “Nobody’s gonna miss us for a few cycles.”

I purse my lip components. Why my ember called out to his, I don’t know. He’s incorrigible, constantly finding ways to tease others for his own enjoyment. For a bot who has the alt mode of a medical evac. unit, he certainly enjoys to cause trouble. Still…I can’t deny that taking him up on his offer sounds…far too tempting. We haven’t had a good interface in at least a year. Though, our best was certainly the first time he convinced me to join him in his berth, after spending longer than I care to say trying to follow up on our resonance.

I’d been wary. I’m a dispatcher, receiving calls from the battlefield and sending the proper backup if possible. It’s a hard job, putting me face to face with the stark reality of our losses. I’ll never forget when the Decepticon Peace Division had entered my workspace, Tarn, their leader, all but demanding that they be sent in as backup. I didn’t have the clearance to do so, but my superiors were overrun by the sheer hugeness of the battle taking place. And this was _Tarn_ , respected by all Decepticons for his righteousness and loyalty to the cause. So, I’d made the call, trying to ignore the way my ember had practically been shuddering since they’d come into the room. Tarn’s optics had shifted behind his red mask in a smile before he’d called for his team to leave. On their way out, Helex had paused, playfully clapping a hand on my shoulder in gratitude.

It had been like a shock of pure electricity, that first time we touched. I’d nearly fallen over. I would have, if he hadn’t caught me in one of his larger hands, his huge frame dwarfing my more moderately sized one. He’d stared at me for a moment, as shocked as I was. Then, he’d smiled.

“See you when I get back, embermate.”

And he had. He’d gotten back from that battle and hasn’t left me alone since. At first, it was annoying. Now, I only pretend it is.

There’s a shift in his smile, a slight gentling. He unfolds his arms and reaches out with one servo, caressing down my arm.

“I’ve missed you,” he tries again, “All those evac. missions….without seeing you,” his servo catches mine, “When was the last time we were really alone?”

His tone is gentle, the one he reserves for times when it’s just us. When he’s just Helex, not a member of the vaunted DPD, and I’m just me, not the run-of-the-mill dispatcher. I sigh, knowing that he’s won me over yet again.

“About a year, Helex,” I reply softly.

He tugs me closer, his biolights flaring as he perceives that my mood has shifted as well. One of his larger hands comes to my hip, nearly enveloping my waist. His ember practically thrums with barely-contained anticipation, setting my own off in a matching rhythm.

“We’re overdue,” he murmurs, doing his best to continue coaxing, despite his impatience.

I nod, just once, looking up at him.

“We don’t have much time…”

It’s not an excuse, just a fact for consideration. He knows this, if the smile that returns to his face is anything to go by. With very little warning, he lifts my smaller frame, settling me into the crook of one of his elbows, our difference in size making it easy. He gives a chuckle, one of his hands sliding up my leg.

“Enough time for me to get a taste,” the silver tip of his glossa slides over his lip components, “I’ll bet I can even convince you to be a little late.”

I shudder as the digits of his smaller hand creep up my inner thigh. He has a way with his tongue that has nothing to do with words, and the promise of it is enough to set my fans off. He smirks, bringing me closer and leaning down to murmur in my audial receptor.

“My berth or yours?”


	3. Timbre- Tarn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M for sexual situations.
> 
> More shameless DJD fandom. Tarn and his voice, though. Set this one in whatever universe you'd like, just assume that, no matter where he is, Tarn's voice is spectacular in many ways~.

He hasn’t even touched me yet, not in a way that really _matters_. But my cooling systems don’t seem to be receiving that message. Nor does my interface array. I’ve lost count of how long I’ve been pressed against that expansive chest, my back to his front, his arm locked lazily around me, his hand resting on my knee joint. It feels like an eternity. And eternity of just listening to him _speak_.

I can’t imagine a better way to spend it at this moment.

His voice is the only thing he’s used so far after inviting me into his berth, and good _Primus_. I don’t think I’ve ever been so incredibly hot in my life before.

“I wonder,” he purrs, in that eloquent drawl that’s been the cause of my torment, “If I could bring you to overload with my voice alone….that _would_ be something. Don’t you agree?”

All I can manage in response is an embarrassingly wanton whimper, a wordless plea for him to continue. I feel like my spark might give out if he doesn’t _touch_ me. It pulses in erraticism, a fast-paced melody to the steady thrum of his own. It’s always like that. Tarn isn’t one who excites easily, even when he’s enjoying himself.

He chuckles, a low, rumbling baritone sound that draws a gasp from my vents. My head falls back against him, my fans whirring loudly.

“I couldn’t quite make that out,” he says lightly, “Would you mind repeating it?”

I force my vocal processor to work again, despite the way it’s seemed to have offlined itself due to his ministrations.

 _“Please!”_ it’s a sharp gasp of a word, broken and ugly in comparison to his voice.

He pauses for a moment, seeming to consider the desperate request. Then, he hums, almost in agreement, finally, blessedly, dragging his hand toward the apex of my legs.

“Very well. You’ve been so very patient, and asked so very politely…” his voice falls in pitch, and a tremor runs through me, almost as though he’s aligned it with the pulse of my body, “I suppose…I can grant you this.”

His fingers press firmly to the panel over my interface array and he _growls_.

“ _Overload for me_.”

My optics offline from the force of my body’s compliance.


End file.
